As first-time offenders, who own their own business, Mick and his wife aren't typical participants in the program, which is mostly populated with repeat offenders from disadvantaged backgrounds.

But Sentenced to a Job doesn't discriminate and all eligible low-security inmates can choose to participate.

Dozens of businesses in Darwin have signed up to take advantage of a captive workforce, so to speak, in part of the country where good labour is hard to find.

"We have a huge skills shortage across all industries in Darwin," says Sarah Hickey, director of Karen Sheldon Catering, one of the first businesses to join the program.

"We recognise that employing (disadvantaged) locals like indigenous people (and prisoners) is better if you can commit to it longer term rather than employing backpackers on the seasonal market, who are hit-and-miss in their skill level."

Inmate Andy, who is serving a five-year sentence, has been a committed worker in the Karen Sheldon Catering kitchen for three months.

"They show up on time, want to be here because they don't want to be back in prison and are quite happy to do basic tasks at the start.

"They've been affected by alcohol and things like that in the past but they're trying to overcome those barriers, so we help them along the way."

Andy even wrote the company a letter not long after he began working there, saying he was enjoying learning new skills every day.

He wrote that if more prisoners join the program he'd be able to "explain to them what's right and what's wrong and keep them on the right track".

Attorney-General John Elferink is proud of the program he's spearheaded, and admits he didn't expect local businesses to respond to it with such enthusiasm.

"What we're trying to give these people is something they've never, ever had before, and that's something to lose," he says.

"If they commit an offence again and come back into the corrections system, then they have actually lost something."

Early figures suggest the recidivism rate could be as low as 18.3 per cent, compared with about 55 per cent for the general prison population.

Some prisoners have dropped out of the program for breaking rules, such as using mobile phones or trying to smuggle cigarettes back to jail, while others have finished their sentences and stopped turning up to work regularly.

But for many, there's a clear benefit.

"It aims to restore dignity," Mr Elferink says.

"For many of these guys, it's the first job they've ever had and they're discovering the value of work and learning self-worth in the process."

Chris, 39, is serving a 16-month sentence for assault and also works at Savannah Powdercoaters, where inmates make up a third of the company's workforce.

"I'm still trying to get around the fact that I'm back in prison - what am I doing here?" he says.

"(Work's) been a good incentive, gives you a purpose instead of waking up still in prison and thinking, `This is bulls**t'."

Queensland's Attorney-General Jarrod Bleijie is interested in seeing how the program operates, Mr Elferink says.

He admits there's little evidence to show whether the program will succeed in reducing return rates "because nobody's done it, or if they have, they've been very discreet about it".

Mr Elferink acknowledges the political risk in letting prisoners go free on a daily basis, but says he's been surprised by the positive response of the community.

"There was some tentativeness on my part when we started doing this, but I determined I'm not going to waste my time in government being afraid of doing things," he says.

Although prisoners are in jail as punishment, the program is also about correcting behaviour.

"I'm the Minister for Corrections, not the Minister for Kicking People to Death," Mr Elferink says.

"Government can't fix people's lives - what we can do is create an opportunity and encourage people to fix their own lives, and if we can do that, then there's a much greater chance for these folks."

In the NT, where welfare dependency has caused enormous social problems, Mr Elferink argues that a job is the best form of welfare, and Ms Hickey agrees.

"If we can stop just one person going back through the revolving door cycle then to me, that's everything," she says.